A Fond Fizzle

We're heading back from the lake; walking through the woods in the dark.

It's me, Isobel, and her dad, Tim.

Up ahead, he's got a flashlight and he's calling out roots and rocks as we make our way through the blackness. He planned this whole thing out like a total pro. We watched the fireworks lakeside, from this little cove, where we set up the camp chairs he thought to bring right there in the water. What's more, we had the place to ourselves, just like he'd predicted. Tim joked that nobody else would be willing to walk this far for a view of the fireworks over the lake, and he was absolutely right. It wasn't even that long of a walk, all things considered. Although, my headlamp keeps cutting out, so the journey back to the car is feeling just a tad longer than the trek in. It's not the batteries... those are full. Must be one of the connection ports? I'll have to check it later. Right now, I'm just trying not trip over a root or walk into a tree.

The fireworks actually ended somewhat abruptly. We're not sure why, but they were advertised as this big, huge, spectacular event for the 250th 4th of July celebration, so we're joking about the anti-climactic finale. The local radio station we checked mentioned something about "technical difficulties." What we saw of them was pretty grand, though. Our view from the water sort of felt like watching everything in IMAX. You know, where it's actually almost too close? Sizzling lights streaked skyward, necks craned, colors flashed. We'd recoil. Booms ricocheted off the water and  then bounced back and forth around the surrounding mountains.

Twigs snap as I follow Tim and Isobel onto a new trail. Fireworks and I don't always do so good. Some years have gone better than others. Thing is, I don't like crowds. The logistics of it all seem like a huge hassle, too. Between parades, fireworks, cookouts and everything else that draws traffic for the 4th, I wonder if it's really worth it. One year, I remember spending the 4th in Bar Harbor, ME with my family and it was so foggy we couldn't even see the fireworks. Just the clouds, lit up faintly like stale cotton candy. Another year, I was leading a multi-week camping trip for a group of teens in Yellowstone for the 4th and we sat in the same place in traffic for so long, eventually I just pulled the van over and we watched the fireworks go off above town wayyyy in the distance right there by the roadside.

As we're getting back to the car, Tim and Isobel are trading jokes about how "wowed" they are by the interrupted display we just watched. I'm just smiling to myself in the dark, grateful for those "meh" fireworks and the excuse they gave us to go romping through the woods together.

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Our Daily MAP Year Prompt
307/365

What traditions do you jump through hoops for because they're an excuse for something better?

onward.

For more on this daily column and The MAP Year Project, read the backstory here. And if you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along.